


Hunting the Hunter

by casey270



Category: Teen Wolf (TV), Tommy Ratliff (Musician)
Genre: M/M, Minor Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-08-02
Updated: 2012-08-02
Packaged: 2017-11-11 06:54:21
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,228
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/475792
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/casey270/pseuds/casey270
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sometimes you can't tell who's the hunter and who's the hunted.  And sometimes, it doesn't matter</p>
            </blockquote>





	Hunting the Hunter

**Author's Note:**

  * For [zoodlemouse13](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=zoodlemouse13).



> For zoodlemouse13, who is the best Tommy fan ever. I tried to work in a few of your favorite things. Happy birthday, bb!!!

Tommy hears the sound of his own footsteps echoing back to him. He knows they’re his, but that doesn’t stop him from looking over his shoulder every few steps just to make sure. He should have said yes when Isaac offered him a ride, but he’s been noticing a little more softness around the middle lately, and walking is good exercise, right? Besides, the idea of walking home after a late night practice session has never bothered him before.

He can laugh at himself and tell himself to relax all he wants, but he knows he’s not gonna be able to let his guard down until he’s back home, preferably with the door locked and dead bolted, and maybe not even then.

It’s not like there’s anything to be afraid of, either. The worst thing he’s ever had to worry about here was the roving band of parrots bullying people to wake up at the asscrack of dawn. Shit, he still wishes he’d taken out a few of those little fuckers when he’d had the chance, but imagining the public outcry a couple of dozen colorful little bodies would have caused had taken away his hunter’s edge. 

Tommy was born a hunter; he was raised a hunter. He knows how to be a damn good hunter - except when he’s distracted. Maybe he gets distracted a little too easily sometimes. Hell, maybe even thinking about being distracted is too distracting, because without even sensing anyone or anything creeping on him, he finds himself pushed into the alley he’s passing. 

He hits the side of the brick building face first, and the force of it is enough to knock the wind right out of him. He’s been trained his whole life to know how to react in a situation like this, and he doesn’t even have to think. He goes limp, giving his attacker a sense of security, hopefully buying him enough time to get his breath back and assess the situation.

-

He lets strong hands with sharp claws hold him in place while he feels the hot breath of his attacker rush past his ear. He hears the words come out in a low growl when the not-man says, “I know who you are. I’ve been searching for you.”

“Sure as hell looks like you found me, then,” Tommy answers, turning in the tight space and looking up at the face of a predator. The glowing eyes look right down inside Tommy before canine teeth scrape along the skin of his neck. He can’t fight the shiver that runs down his spine just before he gathers his strength and pushes against the well muscled, shirtless chest of his adversary. This time it’s a shifter who’s come looking for him: a were, and a strong one. 

Dropping down into the small space he’s created between them, Tommy sweeps his leg out, knocking the feet out from under his opponent. “You’re good, but are you good enough?” the man in wolf’s skin asks.

“I think so, but there’s only one fucking way for you to find out,” Tommy answers, taking a defensive stance as the man-wolf prepares to attack again. This time he’s ready though, and when the wolf charges, Tommy doesn’t dodge. Instead, he grabs the broad shoulders and pulls them both into a backwards roll that’s designed to end with him on top.

Except designs don’t always work right, and this werewolf is stronger and smarter than most, because Tommy doesn’t have time to establish his position and draw a weapon before he finds himself on the ground, straddled by strong legs. He feels a sharp claw putting pressure on the skin of his throat just above his breastbone. He tries to keep his breathing shallow. He doesn’t want to help his opponent in spilling his blood.

His mind is frantically searching for a way out. Something in his training has to serve him now, because he’s sure as hell not going to give up in some dirty back alley. Before he can come up with a plan, he feels the point of the claw break his skin and watches as the were raises it to look at the glistening red drop in the light of the moon before putting it in his mouth and sucking the blood from it. “Sweet, just like you, babe.”

“Fucker,” Tommy says with a mixture of amusement and frustration. “You cheated. You were hard when I had you pinned, and it threw me off.”

“Can’t help it if I think you’re sexy, can I?” Derek asks, returning to his human form. He runs both his hands up Tommy’s chest before he lets them rest on either side of Tommy’s head. Leaning down far enough that only a hairsbreadth separates their lips, he continues, “I’m not the only one, either. You have to learn to focus on what’s important if you want to stay alive.” He barely brushes his lips against Tommy’s before the contact turns into a full-fledged, soul searing kiss. 

By the time they finish, Tommy’s chest is heaving. He’s trying to get his breathing and heart rate under control. He’s trying to see beyond the commanding eyes that have him pinned in place. He’s trying to think of anything besides how much he wants this to go further, but, damn, everything in him is centered on his dick.

He sees Derek looking down at him with the same want in his eyes, and he can’t help grinding up against the hard body above him. He’s every bit as hard as Derek is right now, and if he can’t find a way around it, he’s not gonna come out on top tonight.

When Derek raises his head to let loose a howl of need, letting the pale moonlight wash over his face, Tommy see his moment and his chance in the vulnerability of Derek’s exposed throat. This time he doesn’t grind, but bucks, throwing Derek off.

Before Derek can find his composure and get his mind off his dick and back to fighting, Tommy uses one of the fancy moves he spent so much of his youth learning, ending behind the still panting wolf disguised as a man. He pulls the dagger he keeps hidden in his boot, pressing it to Derek’s neck with a grace of movement that’s born of countless hours of repetition. This is something he knows, this is pure instinct and training.

When Derek feels the hidden power in Tommy’s body coming out to play, it excites him despite the fact that he’s the one in danger. This right here, this is why he does this, why he’ll never tire of this. “Glad you finally remembered to think, baby,” he says as he feels Tommy’s hold loosening. He turns and places an almost gentle kiss on Tommy’s pretty, pouty lips. “You have to be ready for the times that it’s not me coming after you in some alley. You have to stay focused on staying alive to fight the real bad guys. It won’t always be a game or training.”

Tommy kisses Derek back, hard and dirty, his strong hands on either side of Derek’s face. “This isn’t training. This is fucking foreplay. Lets get home and take care of things, okay? Besides, Stiles is probably waiting with hot cocoa and popcorn and a night of cuddling planned.”


End file.
